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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25416619">small thoughts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellinor/pseuds/Ellinor'>Ellinor</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Body Horror, Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Gen, Gore, She/Her Pronouns for Monster Pig, some intentionally bad grammar. shes a monster pig she doesn't have to subscribe to language rules.</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:35:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,800</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25416619</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellinor/pseuds/Ellinor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Monster Pig is a good pig! A Long and Wide Pig! A Hungry Pig! </p>
<p>She did nothing wrong, just ate her food, as she was made to do.</p>
<p>(For @eliasbouchardslut on Tumblr, we are not immune to Pretty Lady)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Monster Pig &amp; Dylan Anderson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>small thoughts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi YES HAVE YOU ALL BOTHERED TO GOOGLE EXACTLY HOW MUCH 3-4 KILOGRAMS OF PIG IS? THATS 10 TIMES THE AVERAGE WEIGHT OF PIGS. 7000+ POUNDS OF PIG. LONG PIG. WIDE PIG. I LOVE MONSTER PIG. I GOT ALL EMOTIONAL WRITING THIS.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Monster Pig doesn’t know when she began to exist. She woke one day, as if she had done such a thing before, and simply existed, as many things did. She could be a thing, or an animal if one is generous. She simply was, and started to be one day. It was warm, and there were days where she had to move, scattering her smaller fellow pigs, and she could monopoly the water or mud puddles so she could cool down and feel comfort. </p>
<p>She knew the pigs were like her, but not. Because they were weak, not the same. She was bigger, stronger, better in any way that could matter when one was a simple pig in a sty. They stared at her with the same fear they felt when they were wounded, as if one weak move would set the entire sty of fellow pigs against them, but it held more dread, a deep knowledge that one day they would be her meal. And that was true. </p>
<p>One day she would eat and consume everything these smaller, weaker pigs were. She knew this as much as she knew anything, like she knew she was once a part of something even larger than her current form, like she knew she was a pig. These large large thoughts were butchered down into something smaller, more digestible for her smaller brain. She knew she was pig. She knew she ate. She ate meat. So, she ate pig. </p>
<p>She knew anything worth eating was meat, and that pigs were meat, that she herself was meat. The only thing to separate her from her fellows was that she was big, and felt a hunger they had for simple scraps, but her hunger was looking at them, their smaller pink forms, how they cowered. </p>
<p>One day a man came. She knew it was a man, that it looked at the pigs and saw meat, just like she did. But she knew it was too kind. It was too weak, and that marked him meat as well, no matter his tools and big thoughts. The man avoided her, fear in its small weak eyes, just as all the little pigs did.</p>
<p>He fed her, and that made his weakness mean less, if it meant that he brought her food. Food was everything.<br/>It was not enough, though, and so she ate a weak little pig, the one that came up close to the man for affection, another sign of weakness, one that made the meat all the sweeter in the end.</p>
<p>She heard him call her Monster Pig. She felt a satisfaction at that, a glow like sunshine, a rightness that her small thoughts could not parse. It took away what little of The Stranger she had been, no longer uncanny now that she owned a name. She was Monster Pig, big and scary and hungry. She was Monster Pig, scarred from battles she doesn’t remember winning, but she remembers the way her meat would squirm away from her maw, and she would step down on it to keep it in place, listening to it squeal, useless without big tools.</p>
<p>Sometimes the man came without food, showing weakness, smelling of it, and she would move, and he would run. Every once in a while, she would eat another weak little pig, rip and rend and consume all it was, and the man no longer looked so weak as he simply accepted it, as the little pigs had after she ate the first. </p>
<p>It was life. One day she saw a man- one that looked like the man who fed her, but different- and so she began to consider what she was. Is there a pig who looked like her but was not her, one so large and strong and good as she was? She kept trying to think and ate a small pig in her pen out of frustration, but all that happened was that her too-big thoughts drew the strange not-her-man towards her home in the dead of night. </p>
<p>It spoke, and said what she was, what pig was. Long pig. Short pig. Wide pig. Narrow pig.</p>
<p>And so Monster Pig was able to rest, content with that. All a pig was worth was how big they were, how much meat rested on their bones. She was the longest, the widest, the best. That was good. She was good.</p>
<p>Maybe she would have eaten the not-her-man as he drew nearer to her home, but her man came, and brought the not-him away. She would have enjoyed the not-her-man’s meat, she thinks, but does not feel bothered, considering how delicious the fear and weakness itself was to consume as they ran away from her.</p>
<p>The man came to feed her, and life continued on. Then he was no longer there, as he had been in the beginning, but this stretch of Lonely was unsettling. It was different and Monster Pig did not enjoy it. She preferred food from his hands, his fear was always the most satisfying, as opposed to his even weaker fellows that walked her home.</p>
<p>She was frustrated, not the not-knowing frustration of what she is, but a different dissatisfaction. She had no more weak pigs to eat, no more deep intrinsic dread and fear and knowing that those pigs were just meat. Now they were a part of her, helping her grow ever stronger and better. So instead, she thought of calling upon a man, a meal, meat. </p>
<p>And so late one night, a strange man in fruit-and-flower-bright coverings came to her, and she ate. She consumed all he was and reduced him to meat, blood, bones. Gristle cut into her gums, bringing only more scars, and she relished in his fear. He knew what was happening, but was resigned and dead-eyed as he approached her, aware he was nothing to her, nothing but her next meal to eat.</p>
<p>And eat she did. She left a single piece, a long white bone, and left it out, a gift for her man to partake in when he returned. He would return to her. </p>
<p>He did that very morning, the sun rising and warming her body as the meat and fear had in the dark cold of night. He did not have food, he simply stood and watched and knew what she had done, and that it meant nothing to her aside from another meal. </p>
<p>He surprised her, then. He walked into her home and prostrated himself, lying on his back before her, with a resolve that was not weakness or fear, not anymore. It was intriguing, and she was curious.</p>
<p>She walked forward, everything aching, but that is how one existed as meat, they ache. She walked forward, and tasted weak flinches of fear trying to move him, but the man was resolute and stayed even as her pink saliva dripped, ever tinged with red warm blood. </p>
<p>So she settled down, next to his small warm body, and felt restful. She made a grunting huff, trying to tell him, convey her big thoughts to him, but he simply laid there, less and less fear to taste from him.</p>
<p>There is no love in the Flesh. Not love of the self, of the body, of the body’s beauty. There cannot be any love, not when everything that moved and breathed was simple meat, just in different colors and tastes, some easier to eat than others, and that being all that matters in the end. </p>
<p>But there is friend. There is camaraderie, the knowledge that even as one is simple meat, there are allies and those worth not eating. She thinks he is friend. He is worth not eating, is worthy to bear the mark of Viscera and yet not be of it. </p>
<p>Something in her settled, and Monster Pig, in all her small thoughts, wondered if she was more than eating, if she could have one friend. Eventually, as the sun moved and tried to burn into her thick skin, she walked away from her friend, and watched him breathe big breaths and leave, fear coming back to tinge his scent, but not enough to revoke how she marked him.</p>
<p>That night, as it cooled and she rested in the same spot he had hours before, she heard loud sounds. She saw bright heavy things made to surround her, and her friend was building with tools, looking at her with a tinge of fear stronger than before. An old woman Watched, and Monster Pig knew she was an Eye, not one to trifle with. Both were monstrous, Monster Pig thought in small thoughts, but the woman was not worth trying to eat, too strong and fearless, like her. The woman left once grey sludge began to pour into Monster Pig’s home, and she felt even colder now that The Eye had stopped seeing her.</p>
<p>She still rested, knowing this could be her time to meet The End. She tried to eat the sludge, but it was not meat. So she stopped, and became a meal for The Buried, as the sludge passed over her eyes and she began to Choke. </p>
<p>She was nothing. </p>
<p>Then she was again. She woke as she had before, countless times, in fields and farms and slaughterhouses. But instead, this was a garden of man and woman and person, of mortals who feared The Flesh more than anything. </p>
<p>She ate well here, simply trundling along, waddling on small legs and sometimes feasting from blooms, but typically sustained by the fear and anguish and knowledge that all these animals had become meat, and always were meat.</p>
<p>She found the gardener, and knew it was of her, though it had once been man. He tossed her shreds and scraps, and eating from the hand of man was always sweeter. But she knew he would one day become meat, a meal, though it was not in the typical sense. He knew it too. </p>
<p>She never rested by him. She never called him friend.</p>
<p>She would stop sometimes, and think of her friend, and wonder why he fed her to The Buried, instead of simply consuming her. She thinks it would have hurt less if he had killed her with the same hands that once fed her. But instead it was a semi-death akin to The Slaughter, feeding her to something for his own righteous purpose, because he thought it right.</p>
<p>If she found him again, though, she knew she would still settle with him, and would still trust him. Here in the garden she could not die and she enjoyed that, as much as she could.</p>
<p>But there was no sun, no warmth, simply growth and meat. </p>
<p>She wished she were back home in her pen, and it is a big thought.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Find me on Tumblr @save-the-spiral-again for my TMA sideblog. @save-the-spiral if you want my main, which is a wizard101 and pirate101 blog. I can't help having taste in fandoms, and in side characters to love. *blows kiss at pile of meat* for Monster Pig.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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